Danzón no2
by huoairbender1
Summary: In which Gilbert listens to his brother's orchesta. (It's better than it sounds) There's one swear word in there so if you don't wanna read it don't.


Sooo… This probably is just an excuse to write about my latino legacy (Mexican pride!). I didn't know how to close so the end sucks, just a warning. If you find any typos please tell me. I do hint a PruCan but it's very light. If you want to at least _understand_ the work you have to listen to the Danzón number two and Ludwig is based off Alondra de la Parra so I recommend you watch her. Enjoy.

-Page Break-

Gilbert looked around the darkening theatre with slightly too wide eyes, taking in the rich décor and the regal paintings on the ceiling.

The red velvet of his seat made him uncomfortable when it brushed against the stiff fabric of his borrowed suit; he felt so out of place…

At first, when his brother had sent him an invitation to the most important presentation of his short life (the Paris orchestra, for fuck's sake) he had been nothing but shocked. Even though they were quite close they never talked about their jobs.

In fact, anything that had to do with Ludwig's job was not talked about. Gilbert had always thought he knew Ludwig like the palm of his hand so when Ludwig had decided to become an orchestra director it had been quite the nasty surprise.

And yet, here he was, anxious and surrounded by la crème de la crème of the French, trying to avoid making small talk with any of them. They wouldn't be able to understand his thick German accent anyway.

Finally, finally the red curtains opened and he saw all o9f the orchestra there sitting or standing by their instruments. And there was Ludwig, walking towards the podium with an unreadable mask for a face and his hair slicked back. He stood behind the podium and tapped lightly the wand against the wood.

The albino saw a man before lean back into his seat, his eyes closed. "Rude." Gilbert thought.

And then the music started.

At first it was only a light clarinet melody that followed Ludwig's gentle movements airily, and as more and more instruments added themselves to the music he liked it even more. It was enchanting and light and anything he could imagine a dryad's words to be.

Then, came the violins, moving like a well-oiled machine and giving profundity to delicate music.

Suddenly, a few piano notes here and there and then the music was darker, graver. Gilbert now understood why people closed their eyes to listen.

And as the music progressed it became faster and more festive, its rhythm inviting Gilbert to stand and dance right then and there in the fancy theater. But he stayed put, eyes glued to the orchestra that moved like a ballet, in perfect unison.

It was like waves, up and down and then nothing, only a piccolo and the rest of the orchestra in the back making the song appear eerie and mysterious, anticipation grew in the hearts of the spectators as they waited for the outcome with baited breaths.

The music grew stronger and suddenly… Silence.

A piano, the claves and a violin playing with a heart wrenching melancholy and solitude, Gilbert watched the young violinist whose blond hair shone under the theater's lights.

What color were his eyes? Gilbert couldn't see but it didn't matter because the rest of the violins had welcomed themselves and played a soft tune. When they quieted the claves and the clarinet and the transverse flute had a soft discussion and Gilbert saw Ludwig's cheeks draw the hint of an anticipating smile as the quietness grew.

And then Gilbert understood.

All of the violins came again with unexpected intensity and a bang, a dark tune played by the musicians. And there were also more wind instruments, trumpets and tubas accenting the music and as the music moved and transformed with a fast pace Gilbert observed Ludwig who had left all inhibitions behind and directed with all of his body and twinkling eyes, a few strands of pale hair having escaped from their gelled confines.

As the music dwindled down to only a piccolo Gilbert knew why Ludwig had decided to become an orchestra director. Ludwig who was authoritarian enough to become a general, Ludwig whose face was always closed off, Ludwig who was moving on the stage with vehemence and intention behind every little twitch, like he was under a spell.

Ludwig who felt the music with every fiber of his being.

And then, the crescendo began.

From complete and utmost silence the violins rose within the orchestra and Gilbert's eyes couldn't decide who to watch, if the blond violinist or his brother with their passion.

And it grew, and it grew and suddenly… Suddenly it all ended with an explosion of emotions that seemed impossible and as Ludwig stood there panting proudly and the young violinist swished a sweaty curl away from his purple eyes Gilbert sat with unseeing eyes,.

For the rest of the presentation he could only hear the danzón.

Later, he would offer his congratulations to Ludwig , offering him flowers in a teasing manner. Later, he would ask for the golden violinist's name and number. ("Ah, Matthew, he's very talented." His brother would say with a firm nod.)

But for now, he basked in Arturo Marquez's legacy.


End file.
